Dream All Day

I have never felt as connected to a moment in time than when I found myself tripping into a very wrong situation. I blame it on two CDs. To make it easier for me to feel a little more innocent than I actually was at the time I've stricken those CDs from my music collection and iPod. They help me think that it wasn’t a mistake in my head if I say it in this way to myself often enough. What is right in the way we explain it away to ourselves and what it sounds like when we actually tell other people makes it feel wrong, for sure, and no amount of explanation can take away the guilt. Yet, it adds a sense of the forbidden and that can only amplify the buzzing sound, along with the music, in your ears when *it* happens.

When you date someone over and over and over again (the curse of the first college boyfriend), you start to pick up on evil seduction tactics. There are ways to make it happen and they’re usually successful. So, when someone new arrives in his life, you back up and move on to your own “someone new” because if you don’t the ease of getting back into the compare-and-contrast mode is too quick and borderline obsessive. Only the latest isn’t so keen on the tactics and you have to change your repertoire. At this point, you consider general moves. Moves that are interchangeable from partner-to-partner are necessary. I can’t get myself to build up too much of a stockade of tricks, though, thanks to my monogamous nature. When you’re with someone for long periods of time, the moves that have grown dependable with that particular person stay on solid ground and you don’t have to worry about whether or not they work for him. They just do.

Then there’s the issue of getting back together with someone, after you’ve had some time with a different person, and feeling those previous moves work again is such a strange feeling. To switch back into that way of kissing, that way of moving your hips during this point in the foreplay, flicking your hair over your shoulder to the left and having him put his hand behind your head, at the base of the skull, to rub his thumb over the hollow there is exhilarating. There is no guessing. There is no uncertainty. Everything can be focused on the course, the progress, and the finish. You can concentrate on the person, on the way he reacts to what you’re doing to him, and see the delight behind his gaze from what he’s doing to you. It’s the equivalent of a wine bottle being popped open; the pressure-and-release, the working of his body to get a direct result: something you can enjoy completely. When the illicit nature of doing something you’re not supposed to be doing with the person you’re not ever supposed to be doing it with intensifies the way your ears buzz. It’s almost as if you can’t breathe. That you’re not supposed to breathe or it might ruin the moment. It adds to the head rush of the experience. There's a tremor in your voice and every nerve in your body.

“I cannot do this. I cannot do this.” You can’t even think straight it’s all happening so quickly, so the justifications come fast and loose and you can’t even remember them immediately after it happens. “Why did I do this again?” “What am I supposed to do now?” “I’m screwed.”

All of this, all of these little pauses in logic and time come rushing back to your head and to your loins whenever you hear any of the songs from these two CDs. It’s when you think fondly back on this dishonest moment when you should really start to worry. I’m almost to that point, so I am very anxious. I don't like feeling this way.